The Rain, The Hay
by goldstarwrites
Summary: Set in the Hayloft scene, including both Melchior and Wendla's POV. Rated M for sex.
1. Wendla

**AN: This is my first SA fan fiction, so any thoughts you have would be greatly appreciated :)**

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><p><span> ~Wendla's POV~<span>

"We can get soaked to the skin and not even care!" I wanted him to run with me through the winter storm.

"Forgive me." He whispered this to me; I had no idea why, but the inclusion what I could only assume was a secret made my heart do tiny somersaults.

"It was me. All me" I whispered back. He pulled me into his chest. He was warm, I felt safe there. He looked deeply at my eyes and drew me closer. He was about to kiss me. My mind played the voice of my mother over and over; '_love her husband…as she can only love him.' _This was wrong. I had let onto him my pleasure at his lips, I called his name, but something in me pushed him away. "I don' know".

"No matter where I am, I hear it, beating…" He was so poetic. I wanted to stay with him in this moment forever, or maybe do more, maybe kiss, properly, like a woman and her husband do.

"And I hear yours." Then he leant in again. He kissed me; his lips were soft, and the way, the way… I felt… I have never felt such strong emotion in life. Only when he beat me with the switch a few weeks ago had I ever let myself feel pleasure in the arms of another. He slowly pressed his body into mine, closer than when we had started to kiss. I heard my mother's voice again. This was sinful. "No- wait – no"

He stared at me, like he was starting to get angry, ready to hurt me, let something in himself spark. He instead said my name, intent on moving further than we were.

"Wait – stop. I can't. We're not supposed to." The pain was evident in my voice. I didn't want to betray my father and mother. I lived a good life, sticking to the rules. I was safe that way. Melchi was a radical, who had no belief in God or heaven or anywhere that rules were necessary. His temper was rising at me, I could see it in his expression. Then he burst.

"What? Not supposed to what? Love? I don't know - is there such a thing? I hear your heart… I feel you breathing – the rain, the hay… Please. Please, Wendla" He leant forward and kissed me again. It felt better this time, but part of my head was still ticking. This was WRONG! I needed to snap him out of this ridiculous fantasy.

"Melchi, no – it just – it's…" He proceeded to cut my sentence short.

"What? Sinful?"

"No. I don't know…"

"Then, why? Because it's good?" I dwelled on this for a moment. I loved Melchior, and a woman can only love a man in this way, or so my mother says. So what would be the problem, if I loved him truly, which I did?

"Because it makes us 'feel' something?" I again thought about this. I felt so good. I was in love with Melchior and if I did love him, I could surely kiss him without feeling a smudge of regret. I held him in my arms, firmly around his slightly large frame. I pressed my lips against his. He returned my kiss and my arms dropped from around his chest. He held me from the centre of my back and lay me down in the warm, damp hay. He whispered to me 'Don't be scared' and I nodded, feeling slightly powerless. He kissed me again and I felt safe again. He then placed a hand on my chest.

"No." I was going to be firm with him. I didn't want this, not even slightly.

"Please – "

"Don't. It…

"What?" He was looking at me, his large blue eyes making contact with mine. He was concerned for me, that was evident. This time, I had the power. I took his hand in mine and placed it back onto my breast. He unbuttoned my dress after a few moments of squeezing my chest. I was breathing heavily now. No person on the earth except me had ever looked under my dress since I was a child with less…less of a chest. He pulled my under dress open and stared at my heaving chest. He grabbed my breast and proceeded to caress it like he had done before. This was so exhilarating, I felt alive. A person can be living, but not truly alive. I was being awakened from a fourteen year slumber only true intimacy and feeling could knock me out of. His hand started to go up my legs, stroking them gently. I started to feel more and more uncomfortable as he go closer to my private area. I sat bolt upright, a tear rolling down my cheek. "Wait…"

"It's just me." He paused, waiting for me to lay back down. I looked into his eyes, this was starting to scare me. "It's just me." He reassured.

He reached my privates and stroked me there. It was so…so, wonderful. It was a sin, but it was making me happy. God wants us all to be happy, so how is such a thing a sin?

"Now there – now that's…" The pleasure was taking over me now. Melchi stopped and looked at me, cleary anxious to continue. He must've thought he was hurting me.

"Yes…?" he asked me. He looked worried.

"Yes." I responded quickly. I wanted him so badly to continue. Then he climbed on top of me. He pulled down his braces, then his trousers. This was so confusing. Why was he doing this? We were only kissing and he was stroking me. Why did he need to take his trousers down? Then, all too suddenly, he took his pants off. He pulled my dress away from my privates and started to push something into me. It hurt, badly. This couldn't be an act of love could it? He was barley inside me, when I started to feel a heaven within myself. After a little while of his entering me deeper and deeper, he thrust himself into me and, my God, it was heaven.

"Melchior – oh!" The pleasure was so intense. This was sex. What I knew of it was minimal, but I knew it involved a man and a woman. Ilse had told me about it. She was apparently very used to having sex, but she said she never felt connected to the men she had sex with. She wanted to be able to make love to a man. She described it as 'sex with a man you truly love and would give yourself too'. I was making love to Melchior. And, although he was doing most of the work, I felt in-charge. He was allowed to do this, because we were in love. This night would be immortalised as my first love, my first experience of love – making and, most importantly, perfect.


	2. Melchior

**AN: This is only a two chapter fic in my mind, but if you would like more, please tell me in reviews. Thanks in advance :)**

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><p>~Melchior's POV~<p>

Her hair was glistening through the streak of light in the cracked roof. She was just so perfect, and I had hurt her. What is wrong with me? How could I do such a thing to a girl I was starting to love. I never thought love was real, but she had confirmed that it was within me.

"Forgive me" I whispered. I have no idea why I whispered. Nobody was here except us.

"It was me. All me" she whispered back. It wasn't her though, it was me. I'm older, I should've thought. She trusted me and I beat her. Cleary I am more troubled than I want to let on.

She grabbed me and placed my head just over her heart. "I can hear your heart beat, Wendla." From there, I felt the urge to kiss her. I reached my hand on the side of her face, I leant in, looked into her eyes and just as she called out my name, she pulled away.

"I don't know." I placed her head on my chest and cradled it there.

"No matter where I am, I hear it, beating…"

"And I hear yours." After she said that, I kissed her. I locked her lips in between mine and we kissed. It was truly remarkable. THIS was love. I never thought it was real, but with Wendla, I knew it wasn't just friendship.

"Melchior…" It was good for her too! I could see this going further. My brain seemed completely disconnected from me. Impulsively, I leant closer to her, pressing my body onto her delicate frame. "No – wait – no." I've blown it now!

"Wendla…"

"Wait – stop. I can't. We're not supposed to." That was it! I'm so sick of having society making people believe that love is sinful, that it is only true once you are married!

"What? Not supposed to what? Love? I don't know – is there such a thing? I hear your heart… I feel you breathing – everywhere - the rain, the hay… Please. Please Wendla." I pressed myself onto her again. She wasn't fighting back. I kissed her again, with more feeling than ever before. She was letting me. Then she stared up at me, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Melchi, no – it just – it's…" Again. This bourgeois society was again standing in the way of true love. I'm tired of fighting of people who are brainwashed into thinking that the only way to live is by God's rules!

"What? Sinful?"

"No. I don't know…" This world I have to deal with is full of sheep, each following a leader who is led by the Shepard.

"Then, why? Because it's good? Because it makes us 'feel' something?" I had never felt emotions like this. My dreams were full of women, legs, bodies, but none of them made me feel the way Wendla does. Before I had the chance to swoop in, she pushed me from the nape of my neck into another kiss. I quickly kissed her back, and I felt her hands fall from around my waist. I held her from the centre of her spine and from there, I lay her down onto the hay. I whispered for her not to be scared. I waited for a short while, wondering if she was going to run. Instead she nodded. I immediately touched her breast. It was so… so; warm, unlike anything I had ever touched. She pulled my hand away. I pleaded with her. She began to well up and I let my efforts down. She then put her fingers in between mine and guided my hand back to her chest. I squeezed her breasts, being cautious. I began to unbutton the top of her dress, and proceeded to caress her bosom again.

I moved my hand under her dress, no protest. I started to stroke her, slowly getting closer to her clitoris. She sat bolt upright. "Wait…"

I needed to let her know I wouldn't hurt her. "It's just me." She still looked so nervous, powerless, "It's just me"

I went below her undergarment, stroked her again, she was writhing, moaning.

"Now, there – now, that's"

Had I gone too far? "Yes…"

She responded with a quick yes and I resumed. I took my hand away, knowing I had started her off. I flicked my braces over my shoulders, and then took off my trousers. She looked at me, confused, and then it hit me. She knew nothing of what I was doing. Had her mother never explained to her how a girl changed into a woman, how a baby is made by a man and a woman? I could tell her. She had enjoyed the stroking so much, so maybe if I just went all the way, full on sex, she would only get more pleasure.

Since reading about sexual reproduction, I had been so very eager to give a woman that pleasure, like a heaven breaking over her. I took of my pants and her underwear. It was about to happen. I started by only placing the very tip of my penis into her. She looked happy, so I went slightly deeper, but never fully in. We had been going for what I can only assume was four or five minutes when I saw it fit to penetrate her completely.

"Melchior – oh!" She was happy. This wasn't just sex anymore, we were making love. I, Melchior Gabor, am in love. I kept on thrusting myself into her, whilst I still could. I came and withdrew myself from her. That was the end of the beginning for me Wendla. The girl I one day hope to have the honour of marrying.


End file.
